i am an overripe tearduct
borderline depressants take my outer fears apart
and the smile stays satisfied for a while longer
and so she treads on taut
its hard to mend when nothingness pitches
about in the stomach
what a sad stella

my eyes are reopened. it seems that i need to look past petty statuses and wavering impressions. we make our own definitions of love. whatever it is, i'm not ready for it.

what is it of life that i don't already know? yet i find myself struggling to grasp the wheel i've been maneuvering for the last 22 years. i've become a walking zombie of this reality we know. my throat itching to release the scream winding up for a breakdown that never comes. who and what i've become is a melodrama that will continue to mock me ( Read more... )

been feeling so pent up all the time. smoking cigarettes looking like a calm lake surface. feels like im drawing strength from the little sticks of death, building a tolerance to life.. but feeling like a blind person sinking deeper into the dark

its hard to comprehend this feeling being imposed on me, yet its choking me so much i need to get it out. i really think its too bad if i can't be the person you want me to be. i don't think i am a good friend but at the same time, I'm tired of trying to fit in. This dry spell has caved me in but I'm hanging on in complete and perfect form. ( Read more... )

its been years. i still can't find what im looking for

what is life all about right now when all i can think about is how i am right now right here in this place where i always place myself in? fading off into nonexistence all the time, being in the outer circle where my thoughts envelops me. consumed in my own miserable state. reminders of the person that i am doesn't help me better myself. completely ( Read more... )

signs

there's that ugly rearing in the words she speaks. where is the truth? A contorted laugh, slew of vulgarities. it hangs about in the night air like the bitter aftertaste of beer that everybody throws down. there's nothing to blink twice about because this is the shoes of today's young society. everyone that i've looked up to before is dead. ( Read more... )

and the certain space, reserved for the peace of our mind, what do you make of it? like beans rolling about on your playte, an inferior feeling rising in our throats, trying to form words of reason and comfort. words that we are required to cultivate out of our minds, churning and spilling forth the elixir of our souls till we've been spent and ( Read more... )

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